Death's Delight
by CrazedSkeleton
Summary: The time war, the war in heaven, the age of strife and apostasy, the dalek wars, so many battles across the expanse of the Milky Way. But twenty thousand years of Xeno-Human warfare has turned mankind's weapons against the stars. Now, the once great would-be-conquerors of earth will feel the wrath of the 41st century, be they Chaos, human, or Eldar, they shall know only war.
1. The Demons of Sontar 1

"Your vessel has trespassed into the territory of the Sontaran empire. As our focus is elsewhere now, your destruction will be abstained. Leave while you still have a chance of escape."

Corporal Dars rubbed his head furiously as he transmitted the message to the outer rim of the fleet's kill zone. He would likely be reprimanded by the Commander for having let the vessel come close to the edge. This cycle he had already sent out about thirty of these messages to a number of spacecraft. Normally he would be in his gunnery station blasting the encroaching freighters and vagabond cruisers into scrap for fun, but the last attack by the Rutans had forced strict restraints on using their energy.

"Blasted ignorant scum." He cursed the retreating blip of a ship on his radiation scanner.

But at least it seemed it was the last of the them. For now at least. He cautiously eyed the bridge around him. A few newer soldiers sat observing the latest statistics from the front lines and chuckling gleefully when a video feed of an execution or details on the merciless destruction of a world came through.

Seemed all was under control, maybe he could finally go back to the armory and scrub that annoying bloodstain off his gun. Had come from some ugly alien on a damaged transport a few cycles ago. The stuff stuck and gave his gun an unpleasant sparkle to it.

Carefully, he removed himself from the translucent seat and made his way toward the door. It was then a light ping came through. Another ship at the edge. He gripped his forehead and mumbled some murderous threat to the universe. Then with a sigh, he took his post again, and scanned the screen for the ship.

He was shocked when his console registered ship's size. It easily dwarfed 90% of the ships in his contingent. He also didn't recognize the spacecraft from what 3D imaging the computer had put together, and that was a feat. Dars specialized in reconnaissance, so he knew an encyclopedia's worth of knowledge on alien ships. But never had he seen something so bizarrely ornate. It was like a huge fortress with engines, and a bow.

"Attention alien ship, you have trespassed on Sontaran territory. Remove yourself, and be spared temporarily from obliteration."

Dars would've left it at that, but a gut feeling told him that he should make sure the ship left. So he sat and waited patiently. But the ship simply continued around the perimeter of the kill zone, probably guided by the beacons that the ensigns had set up when the fleet was to hold position indefinitely.

Then it happened, the ship encroached into the zone. Signals from the pylons were silenced before their automatic defense systems even came online. Dars quickly barked for his soldiers to notify the rest of the fleet.

But the second that ship had touched the outside of the ring was the second the mighty Sontaran empire met the greatest enemy the universe had ever known. It's name known in every sentient species. It's legacy, a damning storm of destruction that would never again cease. It's fury, touching everything in the material realm.

* * *

The fleet commander Kal's eyes narrowed as the Corporal had told him of the ship. His video connection fluctuated strangely, as a strange interference caused strong static.

"I sent the message, but this ship just continued! What thing could be stupid enough to charge the entire fleet?"

The vice-admiral leaned over and whispered something into his leader's ear. Kal gritted his teeth and approached his head coordinator's monitor. Dars transmitted the specs of the accelerating vessel, and waited through the transfer delay in eerie silence. The fleet commander scowled and strode from his place.

"This...this is impossible! Those were simply stories!"

"Sir?" Dars asked quietly.

"Corporal, you must get every cannon in the fleet trained on that ship. Or we will be damned souls walking," the Commander paced nervously behind his throne, "I mean every weapon we possess. And tell the main force to suit up and be prepared to repel boarding teams."

Dars couldn't understand, how was his commander shaken by one vessel? The glorious warriors of Sontar had campaigned across the entire galaxy, charging with glee into the fray. But this thing, it had awoke that dulled sense of self preservation deep in Kal's mind.

"Sir, what is on that ship?

The commander sent his personal guard out of the bridge to fetch heavier weapons. He then looked deeply into the screen.

"If the fables are trustworthy; hell itself."

* * *

_Infernal Sin_. Decorated with faces writhing in agony, cast from the victims that the ship's crew had taken through ten millennia of unguided bloodshed. Though now, their numbers only barely half what they were when still dogs of the emperor, the World Eaters fifth company still maintained themselves as one of the most destructive in the warband. And now they sought the ultimate favour of their patron deity. Khorne, the blood god.

Khorne's immeasurable power had been fueled by war craving Xenos since his creation from the fury of both Humans and Eldar. But there had always been another source from farther across the great spiral. The Sontarans. They had always caught his interest. Their constant wars across the galaxy had driven untold billions of souls into his domain. And their skulls were ones he personally enjoyed in his collection.

So of course, the bounty had been given to each of his renegade chapters. For the victor whom returned to him the most skulls of these war mongers would be a prize coveted by every damned soul in his army of destroyers; the transgression into Daemon Princehood. An honor so great, that it was generally only reserve for Khorne's favored. The fifth company's once captain Tartarus Helvin, would have this glory if it meant scouring the Galaxy for the Xenos' homeworld.

But this had been a prize much easier. An entire fleet, waiting on the edge of space. Armed, prepared, and ready to be a sacrifice to his great master. Already he could sense other great ships beginning their descent through the cracks of the Immaterium and real-space. Warbands, Daemons, and simple heretics whose souls would soon return to the warp.

Tartarus's spiked black hair and furious red eyes both glowed ominously as he drummed his fingers upon the mighty gilded chainaxe _Catastrophe. _A great arc of glowing teeth over the head wrapped back into two golden points at either end, and a power spear powered by mighty runes stuck out the bottom like a heart of coal black. Behind the chain blade Tartarus had carved an eight pointed star with an etching of distant Terra in the middle.

This weapon symbolized all his raw hate. And raw hate was all he had left. He saw everything in a sheen of crimson, and every being as a skull on Khorne's throne. Today, he would finally become his god's champion, and crush every last Sontaran in the fleet. He would not be outdone by any others, and he would kill his own soldiers to that end.

His soldiers all waite hungrily at the boarding pods. No longer did World Eaters used cowards weapons of range. They fought with sword and axe, so that not a drop of blood would be wasted on the living or their corpses. Some ravenous warriors revved their blades and chanted; **"Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne! Death to the False Emperor!"**

** "AND WE SHALL HAVE OUR BOUNTY OF DEATH ON THIS DAY WORLD EATERS."**

Tartarus savoured the wait, all the raw unhinged insanity that would soon be forced out.


	2. The Demons of Sontar 2

Dars saw each vessel with his own eyes, and was repulsed at the amount of decor each had been created with. Gallivanting throughout the galaxy in something so aesthetic was, to almost all Sontarans, one of the more childish things. A game for half-forms and under developed tribal cultures who worshiped their gods with outlandish works. Like Humans and their cousin species.

Though the Corporal could not even begin to realize how real the heretic's gods were. True beings of absolute disorder that reigned over the anti-reality. By extension, these death seekers were limbs of the Blood God and his insatiable thirst for war. Though by merely looking at the enormous desecrated Tryanid husks impaled upon one hulking vessel's bow, that was pretty obvious.

The first ship in the incursion was blazing through space between like a massive radioactive meteor. It's dim outer glow shifted aft into the twisting inferno of the main engine, looking as though it utterly radiated it's occupants anger. Small laser fire burst from the Sontaran ship's main port turrets whizzed by it, and the Sontaran sphere's raced around as they began the primary attack.

The commander had ensured not a single available spacecraft was still in the hangar, and had even ordered his own personal escort to be in the front assault on the intruders. In total, the force numbered 483 pods. In most cases, Sontarans would require only a fraction of this to mount a successful counter-attack. However, this mighty contingent was merely a_ fraction_ of what they'd actually require to quell a chaos invasion.

There was a sudden, and rather hypnotic burst of light that emulated from the _Infernal Sin _as it sprinted towards Dars's War-Wheel Cruiser. A rolling volley of laser fire struck, but did not slightly hinder the deamon vessel's accumulated momentum. Dars hardly noticed his captain, who stood sternly and stuck is arm out in salute.

"Sontar-Ha! Sontar-Ha!" He hollered as the light-show of his pilot brethren being vaporized by turrets around aboard another of the heretic ships begun.

The rest of the crew could not resist joining in, and soon the battle-cry began to resonate across the entire ship, **"Sontar-Ha! Sontar-Ha! Sontar-HA! Sontar HA!"**

The Captain began to sneer at the display of unwavering loyalty in the face of the snarling beast that the Sontarans were renowned for.

"Sontar-Ha, Sontar-Ha, Sontar-**Huahhhhhh**."

The chant turned to a cry of agony, inspiring dulled dread in every clone warrior aboard the cruiser. From the severed skull of the Captain stuck forth the serrated teeth of the Khorne's mighty will forged blade. It's wielder, a horrific personification of all rage. Though only lesser deamons, the bloodletters still struck terror into anything they were set upon. Their beady black eyes filled with greed and desire to take as many skulls as they could, purely so that they might only be rewarded with intelligence and favour by their god.

The warp portal had exploded into the main bridge so quickly that no-one had even had time to see it. Dars had been closest, and took his close sidearm, a rheon carbine, to point-blank on the emerging monster and fired madly. It's head boiled and melted, evaporating into a cloud of crimson residue. The carcass burned for a moment, then was gone fast as it came. The portal snapping shut behind it.

"Prepare yourselves for boarding then." Dars hissed, taking one last look at his bisected master's head.

* * *

But little did Dars or any occupant of the ship realize, that bearing down on them was the ten thousand writhing faces of _Infernal Sin_. Who's fifth company's tactics of melee attacks were not restricted to personal battle, as Tarrus proved by commanding his corrupted techpriests to engage the primary engines for a rapid jump right into the prey cruiser.

The ship split away in a trail of light as it slipped through the chaos realm and back into realspace at intangible speeds that were not even possible in reality. As physics took hold, the blur of the ship subsided to an unstoppable trot of boiling power. The bow barely even shuddered as it cleaved through the cruiser's enormous port disc and lodged itself in the central body.

This had been completely an unconventional tactic, but totally compliant with World Eater philosophy; make everything bleed, from pierced veins to ruptured fuel tanks. When frenzied there is no such thing as brother or foe. Everything is a bag of meat ready to spill glorious gore and flood the world with the stench of battle. Blues, reds, greens, all creatures had their own special pallet of eviscerated entrails that the Berserkers would free.

Who needs strategy when you have anger? Who needs artillery while you still have nails on your hands to dig into an opponent's face? Nothing existed that could comprehend Tzeech's magic. Not one creature could feel Slannesh's ecstasy. Only the dead could savor the immortality in Nurgle's blight.

But all beings know anger, and violence, and the satisfaction that comes out of seeing your turncoat sibling a pile of smoldering bones. And that is why Khorne is the oldest of all. Because beyond pleasure, curiosity, and plague stands hatred. Hatred and it's hot and sweltering madness.


End file.
